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About Fukuoka

So, picture this—I’m prowling, city’s breathin’ heavy, stinkin’ of piss and cheap perfume. Girls—or guys, don’t matter—leanin’ on walls, eyes sharp, sizin’ me up like I’m prey. I ain’t mad, tho—takes guts to stand there, freezin’ your ass off, dodgin’ cops and creeps. Respect, y’know? Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I spot this one chick—red heels, ripped fishnets, smokin’ a cig like it’s her last. Reminds me of the movie’s lake—calm on top, chaos underneath. She’s got that vibe.

OMELO MUMBA: A WALK THROUGH A FLESHPOT

As long as you live in or can travel to a city of at least moderate size, it's extremely likely you'll be able to find a sex worker online who fits the bill. But to do so, you're going to need to Missing: Oshamambe.

First thing, I get this call. A dude’s stranded on the side of Route 5. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” So, I grab my tools and head out. The drive there is wild. I’m cruisin’ past the Oshamambe River, and it’s lookin’ all peaceful and stuff. But then, BAM! Traffic jam! Like, what the heck? I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ the clock tick away.

We travel to Gohoro Station, a tiny, remote station between tunnels in the mountains of Hokkaido